Ace Cavalier: The Magic Carpet

Ace wandered the streets at night, trying to find a place where he may drink in comfort and good company. He wished to feast with his bare hands, ripping some pig or boar or deer to pieces and gorging himself on its freshly dead, hastilly prepared meat at the same time as quaffing large quantities of beer and wine, singing songs about heroes and kings and brave dead men. On reflection, however, he knew no such songs and had never feasted from a kill of his own. The best he could hope for was a pub with a pool table where no one talked.

It was while shaking his head in regret that he noticed the rug: it was lying in a heap, propped up against an ugly looking tree. Obviously some fool had decided it was surplus to their requirements, or was otherwise undesirable. Shunning the tree for its ugliness, Ace investigated the cause of the Rug's apparent rejection. He opened it out under the streetlights and surveyed its impressive expanse, expecting some tears, bloodstains or cat piss stench, but found none of these things. In fact it just looked like a damn nice rug.

Ace rolled it into a coil and heaved it aboard his shoulders, proudly bearing its weight the half mile to his house. He found himself quite unexpectedly flushed with the anticipation of slapping that rug right down and standing on its exciting patterns, curling his toes into its rich depth. His room (dump) however did not offer it any space, so he propped it up and went to sleep, dreaming of quality floor-coverage.

Upon waking he had a cup of tea and planned out manoeuvres; "this will be tricky" he thought. Execution of the plan was challenging but by sustained effort he managed to have bed moved, computer tucked away, table dismantled, speakers reorientated and amp situated in preparation of the money shot: Rug placement commenced with little less than religious zeal, after rug beating had taken place in the street with a ritualism some would doubt possible of an act that Ace had never before performed. Its proportions could not have fitted more perfectly to the contours of his room; its colours brought life to what had been, up to this afternoon, a grim and deathly carpet of corded, grey, worn, filthy, thin material.

Ace spent the next three days vacuuming his beloved rug and ignoring all other pressing concerns, both financial and personal, that might distract from the enterprize of room-centered floor-space improvement. Deep within him something ancient had been satisfied.